


Haunted

by lizwontcry, Porkchop_Sandwiches



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27009226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/pseuds/lizwontcry, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porkchop_Sandwiches/pseuds/Porkchop_Sandwiches
Summary: On Halloween, not even death can stop Walt from making his way back to Jesse.
Relationships: Jesse Pinkman/Walter White
Comments: 26
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU moving forward from 4x13, Face Off. In this AU, Gus really was the one who poisoned Brock, Walt didn't have any part of it.
> 
> Thanks for reading and there are plenty more chapters to come.

Seeing shadows in the refracted light of the moon, hearing voices in the echo of darkness, frayed edges of reality moving through the air--being haunted was nothing new for Jesse. He was so used to it that it almost didn’t even faze him anymore.

He saw Jane’s reflection in the window of a bookstore he was passing by and didn’t even stop to look at it.

Every now and then he’d hear Gale’s voice, pleading, _“You don’t have to do this.”_ But he did have to do it. Mr. White asked him to.

And then there was the rest of the ghosts. Emilio in his fucking bathtub, Krazy 8 in his fucking basement. The ghost of heroin being injected into his veins. The ghosts of his parents actually giving a shit about him. The ghosts of the two dealers Mr. White ran over and killed right in front of him.

Not to mention all the other traumatizing shit he’d been through.

Being haunted was nothing new for Jesse.

*****

_W - Meet me on the roof_

_J - K_

Walt was staring out at the Albuquerque skyline, trying to collect his thoughts and slow his pulse. It had truly been a hell of a last 24 hours, to say the least. He unfortunately took more lives than he wanted to, but it was all necessary. Gus was dead. He and Jesse were free.

Destroying the lab with Jesse had been cathartic; not only did they not have to answer to Gus and his henchmen anymore, but anything that might have incriminated them was now burned to a crisp, too. He truly did win.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs; he turned around to see Jesse, looking at least somewhat hopeful. Maybe he had some good news.

"Uh, he's gonna pull through,” Jesse said. Walt could see both the pain and the relief in his tired but still remarkably blue eyes. Jesse had always been an open book, which Walt appreciated.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it looked, uh, kind of touch-and-go there for a while, but he's gonna... he's gonna make it.”

“Thank god... oh, thank God.” Walt exhaled. At least this little boy wouldn’t be another victim on Gus’ path of destruction.

“You know... they’re still saying it wasn't the ricin.”

“I don't understand. Then what was it?”

"Saying it was most likely, uh, a flower called Lily of the Valley. Yeah, it's like common, it's got these, uh, red berries on it that I guess taste sweet, and sometimes little kids eat 'em and wind up poisoning themselves, and that's it." Jesse shrugged.

Walt thought back to why that sounded so familiar to him, and his face went dark with recognition. 

"What? What are you thinking?" Jesse asked, grabbing Walt's shoulder with a renewed intensity.

“At Gus’ factory farm,” Walt said, shaking his head. “When I was waiting for you to show up in the office I saw a potted plant on the shelf. I got a glimpse of it before I left--it was Lily of the Valley. He was growing it out there at the farm. That son of a bitch.”

“That fucking guy,” Jesse muttered. “If he wasn’t already dead…”

Walt nodded. “But he is. He's gone. He's finally gone.”

“I wish I could have been there to see it happen.”

“It was your idea to find Hector at Casa Tranquila, though. Without him, we never could have pulled this off, Jesse. You may not have been present but you got us there in the first place.”

Jesse gave Walt the smallest of grins, and then his face quickly went back to a grimace. He sighed again. “Thanks, man. It was the least I could do. Um, you know… I should go. Andrea’s waiting.”

They shook hands, like partners--like _friends._ The handshake kind of lingered a little, like they wanted to hug but just couldn’t find it in themselves to do it. A hug in a handshake.

Jesse turned around to leave, but something in Walt seemed to snap for a second. He didn’t want Jesse to go just yet. Walt grabbed his hand again. Jesse looked at him curiously.

“Why don’t you come over when you leave the hospital? We’ll have a beer or two. You know… debrief.”

Jesse chuckled, but he looked like he was considering saying no. Walt didn’t blame him, really. It was a bit of an unusual offer, but then again, it was a very unusual day.

“Okay… okay, that sounds good, actually. I’ll just call you?”

“Yes, call me. I don’t care what time it is.”

Jesse nodded, gave Walt one last long gaze, and walked away. 

Walt felt a tiny fraction of something changing in the air between them. Practically imperceptible, barely anything, but just enough to pay attention. 

He'd think about that later, though. For now, he had to call Skyler. 

Because he won.


	2. Chapter 2

The endless aching need of something to take his mind off of everything hit Jesse as soon as he made it home from the hospital around 1:15 AM. He probably had some crystal stashed somewhere, but he was too damn tired to search the house for it. The last couple of days had truly been the worst he could possibly remember, and compared to the last year, that was saying a lot. 

What the hell was he going to do now?

He sat on the floor against the wall, trying to keep the panic attack at bay, but it came anyway. He called Mr. White and said a silent fucking prayer that he was still awake.

He answered right away, sounding concerned. “Jesse? Are you on your way over here?”

“Can you… please… come here? I can’t… I can’t do it… she broke up with me… and she said I can’t see Brock again… Mr. White, please…” Jesse was sobbing. He didn’t want Mr. White to be the one he confided in, but who else was there? Mr. White was the only one who could possibly understand. Which was fucking depressing, when he really thought about it.

“Okay. Okay, Jesse, calm down. I’m on my way.”

He threw his phone on the futon and buried his head in his hands until Mr. White rang his doorbell however many minutes later. Jesse opened the door and walked straight into Mr. White’s waiting arms. This was not what they did. This was not their dynamic. But after everything that happened, maybe it was now.

Mr. White wrapped his arms around him and let Jesse cry it out for a while. They were still standing by the door; Mr. White maneuvered them both to the futon, where as soon as he sat down, Jesse practically collapsed back into him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. White. I’m so sorry. I don’t know… why I get like this. I don’t know.” Jesse finally picked himself up and tried to sit like a person who wasn’t completely losing his fucking mind.

Mr. White took his hand in his own. “Talk to me, Jesse. What’s going on? How can I help?”

Jesse wanted to believe that he was being genuine, that he really wanted to know, that he wasn’t manipulating him in some kind of way Jesse could never see coming. That was the thing--he was always able to see clearly _after_ , only when all the dust had settled. 

But. Mr. White was holding his hand and looking into his eyes sincerely and Jesse was obviously going to fall for it yet again.

Jesse took a couple of deep breaths to settle himself like they taught him in rehab. Mr. White murmured encouragingly, and started to gently rub his back, just lightly swirling his hand around his shoulder blades over his t-shirt. The repetitive motion calmed Jesse down considerably.

He suddenly remembered he was being kind of rude.

“Do you want a beer? I have some Shiner Bock in the fridge.”

“Good idea. I’ll go and get it, you sit tight.”

Jesse was momentarily lost when Mr. White stopped rubbing his back to go in the kitchen and get them both a beer. He missed the warmth and the pressure. Thankfully as soon as he made his way back to the futon and gave the beer to Jesse, Mr. White returned his hand to Jesse’s back. Jesse nearly sighed with relief. 

“Yo, I forgot to tell you, I found the ricin cigarette in my locker before we destroyed the lab.”

“Oh, that’s such a relief, Jesse. Now you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Yeah… I wish I found it before all that shit happened with Brock, maybe I wouldn’t have fucking detectives Douchecanoe and Dung up my ass.”

Although he had calmed down slightly, Jesse was still shaking and on the verge of tears. Mr. White increased the pressure on his back, which felt… kind of nice.

“You said that Andrea doesn’t want you to see Brock anymore? What happened?”

Jesse exhaled. “Yeah, man… she said she was sorry but she couldn’t have me around anymore. She already lost her little brother and she wasn’t going to lose Brock, too. I get it, yo. I do. But… they were all I had. I have nothing now. I literally have nothing.” He tried to stop the goddamn tears from falling yet again but failed. He was a mess. 

“Jesse, that’s not true. You have your friends, the raccoon and the thin fellow. You have Mike, and you have… well, you have me. I know we’ve had our differences, but we can concentrate on moving forward now that Gus is out of the picture.”

“Fucking Gus, man! I _trusted_ that piece of shit! How could he do that to Brock? He’s just a little boy! He didn’t do nothin’ to anyone. Goddamnit.”

“Shh, it’s okay, he’s gone. He’s gone, Jesse,” Mr. White was trying so hard to comfort Jesse, it was kind of freakin’ him out, but also entirely reassuring. Jesse could actually feel himself calm down just a little more.

“Yo, it’s like… I need a distraction. That’s what they said at the meetings. When I started getting, like, in my head about this shit, I need to take a walk or something. Change the scenery.”

“Do you _want_ to take a walk?” Mr. White murmured in his ear. His breath was warm and it gave Jesse a chill somewhere deep down in his spine. Which was alarming, to say the least.

“No…” Mr. White’s hand was under his shirt now, still rubbing his back, but his face was different. Jesse had come to know most of Mr. White’s expressions, from stern chemistry teacher, to best meth cook in the Southwest, to Heisenberg. And this look was new. He seemed to be considering something.

A distraction of his own.

“Jesse… I know it’s hard to imagine that anything will ever be better right now, but it will be. We’re going to move on from this. I have a plan--we don’t have to discuss it now--that will get us up and running again. Partners, right? We’re always going to be partners.”

Jesse didn’t know if that was good news, actually, but he couldn’t see another way out, either. If nothing else, he trusted Mr. White. He was the only person he _could_ trust. Mr. White knew almost all of Jesse’s dirty little secrets and yet he was still right there, by his side, wanting to keep going. That meant a lot to Jesse. So he owed him at least as much to continue their partnership.

“Yeah, man. Partners…”

“Jesse… look at me. I want to help. I want to give you something else to think about.”

Jesse wasn’t a complete idiot. And maybe it was the way Mr. White was touching him, or the determined look in his eyes, or perhaps it was the fact that if something didn’t happen soon, he was going to turn over every goddamn drawer in his house to find the crystal he stashed in them. But… whatever it was Mr. White wanted from him--or maybe even needed--Jesse suddenly knew he wanted it, too.

“Yeah? Like… a distraction?”

“Like a distraction.” 

They moved closer together, and it was slow before it was anything else. Mr. White kept his hand on Jesse’s back, like, caressing it or whatever, and then he kissed him. Jesse closed his eyes and let it happen, and it was… nice. Chaste, almost, but nice. His lips tasted like Shiner and minty fresh gum. Mr. White put his other hand on Jesse’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb, and Jesse hummed appreciatively. 

That’s when Mr. White deepened the kiss, exploring Jesse’s mouth with his tongue. Jesse moaned, his mind a million miles away from anywhere it should be, just lost in this moment. 

Mr. White stopped to take his jacket off, which Jesse kinda liked because it meant he was getting hot. He just had on a thin white t-shirt, not his usual stick-up-his-ass button down shirt uniform. He noticed Jesse giving him a once-over.

“I was about to go to bed when you called,” Mr. White admitted, his voice a little deeper than usual. Jesse wondered if that’s what he sounded like when he was horned out or whatever. He kind of dug it.

“Sorry it was so late, Andrea and I talked for a long time. I tried every single way to convince her to still let me see Brock. Maybe I don’t have any right to but I love that kid. He’s been through so much.”

“So have you, Jesse. You’ve been through a hell of a lot, too.” Mr. White moved his hand from Jesse’s back to put his arm around his shoulder like they were at a movie theater on their second date. 

Jesse looked down at Mr. White's arm. “Wow, Mr. White… when did you get all these goddamn freckles?” He traced a finger down Mr. White’s arm, and kinda grinned when he noticed some goosebumps forming on it. He took note of that for future knowledge.

Mr. White chuckled. “I was born with a lot of ‘em and then they just keep popping up, especially when I spend time in the sun. I used to get made fun of all the time in elementary school before my peers found other things to mock me for… degenerates.”

“Assholes,” Jesse agreed, and kissed Mr. White’s wrist, which felt a little gay but he did just make out with the dude, so… what difference did it make? “Why haven’t I seen them before? It’s not like you never strip in front of me.”

“I guess you just weren’t looking,” Mr. White murmured.

“Yeah… I guess so. But I am now.”

The two of them settled in for more kissing, more face touching, more back rubbing. On one hand it was super fucking weird and Jesse couldn’t believe what the hell he was doing with the jackwad teacher who failed him in chemistry so many years ago, but… if nothing else, it was a suitable distraction. At least he wasn’t thinking about the crystal anymore. Having Mr. White’s complete attention, and not because he fucked something up, well, that was a nice feeling. 

And when Mr. White pulled Jesse in closer so he was basically in his lap, that was a pretty nice feeling, too. Because he was strong and broad and Jesse seemed to just fit right in, and Mr. White was doing this thing where he bit his lip a little and licked it in the same spot and for some reason that was causing all of Jesse’s senses to come screaming to the surface.

“Yo, Mr. White… if we don’t stop this soon… I'm going to drag you to bed,” Jesse breathed. “And I don’t think either of us are ready for that yet.”

Mr. White nodded, looking thoughtful. “Although that does sound pretty appealing to me right now, I must admit.”

Why did he have to say shit like that? Jesse was doing such a good job with not getting hard, and he had to go and say that. Damn.

“I think… if we do this, we should take things slow. You know… the opposite of how we do everything else.”

“I like that,” Mr. White said. “As long as I still get to do this...” He kissed Jesse’s throat, which sparked some kind of involuntary response in Jesse that sent a shock straight down to his groin. He tried to tell his damn dick to chill but it wasn’t listening to him, as usual.

They kept kissing, and Jesse’s mind went in a thousand different directions. This was new, this was different, and maybe, just maybe, it could be something real. Something to not just take his mind off the drugs and Andrea and everything else that was haunting him, but like… 

Maybe he and Mr. White could actually do it. Whatever _it_ was.

When Mr. White moved down to Jesse’s neck and grazed it with his teeth, Jesse couldn’t help but moan a little. He did something he probably shouldn’t do since he literally _just_ mentioned going slow, and moved his hand from Mr. White’s arm to cup him through his pants. He was definitely, 100% hard.

“You like that, don’t you?” Mr. White murmured, kissing his throat. “You like how hard I am for you.”

“Yeah… bitch,” Jesse said. This seemed to bring Mr. White back to Planet Earth, because he laughed and finally stopped kissing him. Jesse was a little disappointed and a little relieved.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. We need to stop. I’ll go home now, but… I’ll see you soon? We’ll discuss business.”

“And make out?”

“Possibly,” Mr. White said, studiously nodding. “Possibly.”

Jesse actually got some sleep after Mr. White left, and didn’t have even a single nightmare.

Maybe there was something to this particular distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bryan Cranston has a lot of freckles and I have a lot of feelings about them.


	3. Chapter 3

_A few months later…_

Growth, decay, transformation. Everything had to transform, even the business of cooking and distributing meth. They were doing just fine without Gus. Sure, they were in and out of strangers’ houses every week, but it was working. 

Speaking of working...

Jesse was weighing the latest batch when Walt came up behind him and kissed his neck. 

“Come on, man. Not when we’re working. That was _your_ rule, remember?”

“Yes, I do recall. But sometimes rules can be broken.”

Jesse laughed. “Since when did you take the stick out of your ass to make _that one_ up?”

“Since now,” Walt said fondly. He supposed he really meant "Since you looked so delicious just standing there that I needed to mark you as my own," but he didn't want to freak the boy out.

Jesse turned around and they shared a deep, ill-advised kiss. Jesse touched Walt’s face for a second and shot him a grin that made Walt’s heart skip a beat. He was like a lovesick puppy around this boy sometimes. Needless to say, things were going well between them.

“Yo, Mr. White… I know it’s early but I wanted to ask you something…”

Jesse looked so sincere and Walt hoped it wouldn’t be a question he couldn’t answer.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if you knew this or whatever but Halloween is kind of my favorite… I was wondering if maybe we could, like, you know… take your daughter trick or treating or somethin’. I think that might be fun.”

Well, that was actually the last thing Walt expected Jesse to ask. It was only the 12th, first of all, but he appreciated Jesse’s enthusiastic if not premature proposal. Although he might have questioned Jesse’s motives in the past, this was a reasonable and simple request. And lately, he desired to give Jesse everything he wanted.

“Okay. Yes, I think that sounds quite nice, actually. It’s a date.”

“Cool,” Jesse said, his face settling into a content and peaceful look. Walt couldn’t help it--he leaned in and kissed the boy again.

“You’re the worst,” Jesse said, chuckling.

“You may be right about that.” 

Jesse went back to weighing the product and Walt tried to focus on his paperwork. 

Walt’s life had become split into almost three separate worlds lately--his life with Skyler and the kids, the new Vamanos Pest business they started with Mike, and… Jesse. Jesse’s blue eyes, Jesse’s lips, Jesse’s tongue in his mouth. 

He was still living at the house with Skyler but they had come to a peaceful, if not quiet, agreement. Skyler was living her life and he was living his. She went out and did god knows what with god knows who a couple of nights a week, and he did the same. They didn’t talk about it; they only spoke about the kids and the car wash business and the weather, which suited everyone just fine. 

And now, Jesse and Walt were doing something Walt had thought he’d never have to do again--they were _dating._ They went to movies and held hands and ate popcorn. They’d go out to eat and order the most expensive items on the menu. They’d go back to Jesse’s place and make out. Walt loved to cook for Jesse and Jesse certainly loved to eat. He learned Jesse was a fanatic for the New Mexico peppers Walt always bought at the Farmer’s Market. Walt would put them in everything he made. 

They were, in fact, taking things incredibly slow. They hadn’t progressed much past making out and occasional teasing touches, but it was working for them. It gave them something to look forward to.

He had a secret, though, and not a good one. Something was happening and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. But it was impossible to think about anything else when Jesse was in his arms, the TV on mute, the only noise being the sound of their sweet, soft kisses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be October 16th, but it's Halloween in my heart <3 Happy early Halloween!

Walt smiled through his mounting frustration. “We can do this. Holly, we can.”

He had sixteen years of parenting in his arsenal, had helped eliminate Albuquerque's biggest drug kingpin, and had somehow begun a romantic relationship with someone who was half his age and twice as attractive. Walt was a man of many talents and he was not going to be taken down by a white, shearling costume onesie. 

Holly—crying her head off and squirming on her changing table like bacon frying in a pan—had other ideas.

“But it’s so soft,” Walt said.  _ Tried  _ to sound reassuring.

He held the left sleeve to her cheek but she batted it away. While he’d managed to get her outfit mostly on, she still had one arm entirely out with the other a flailing lost cause. Not to mention he’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to button what he’d already buttoned, though buttons seemed no match for a fussy baby. 

He took a deep breath and considered calling the whole thing off when the doorbell rang.

Young suitor at the door and his daughter wasn’t ready to go out yet; Walt dryly pondered whether this would only be an all too common scene in his future. 

“If I live that long,” he said.

He scooped Holly up, the plush crown sewn to the hood of her outfit flopping against her back while she hollered about as shrill as the next chime of the doorbell.

Walt gently rocked her and cooed on his way to the living room. “Don’t worry. He’s my...date. Well, you know what I mean.”

He must be tired. Practically talking to himself. 

Once he opened the door, he only further questioned his current mental state. While Holly was certainly quite flushed, Walt wondered if he was the one running fever.

“ _ What  _ are you wearing?” Walt said.

It was almost sunset, streetlights beginning to glow like last summer’s forgotten fireflies, and some of the younger children were already holding hands with parents a few blocks down in their search for candy. His neighbor across the street had a yard full of machines exhaling purple fog amid a graveyard of groaning skeletons. Yet somehow Jesse looked the most bizarre. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” he said. He stomped out his cigarette the second he saw Holly in his arms. “Is she okay? She looks like real red.”

“She doesn’t like being dressed,” Walt said. “But again,  _ what--” _

_ “ _ Wait.” He squinted, touching Holly’s hood. He lifted his own over his head that sported an identical plush, metallic crown. “Yo, are we for real wearing the same costume?”

Suddenly the clawed mittens of Jesse’s ensemble clicked in Walt’s head. 

He chuckled. “Max from ‘Where the Wild Things Are?’ It’s one of Junior’s hand-me-downs. Skyler’s pick. Didn’t know you were so well read in children’s literature.”

“I’m not. It was just my favorite book when I was a kid. Helped me like fall and sleep or whatever.” He let himself in while scooping Holly from his arms so quickly that Walt hardly had time to react. “Guess me and your ex have more in common than I thought.”

Before Walt could respond to that peculiar comment, he was struck by the silence in the room. Jesse was bouncing Holly on his hip. He didn’t look entirely comfortable with an infant; holding her more like a football than a baby. Though Holly didn’t seem to mind. She gripped his hand and smiled, looking absolutely smitten. No longer wailing like a banshee. 

“ _ How did...? _ " Walt shook his head. Shut the door. Better not jinx it. 

“Yo, she’s only got like one arm in this thing,” Jesse said. 

And with hardly any struggle or flourish, he carefully maneuvered her snuggly inside her suit, buttons, hooded crown and all. 

Walt mulled over his words. “I’m...well, I.... So, why are you wearing that?”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Dude, we’re trick or treating.  _ You’re  _ the loser not in a costume. Just ‘cause we’re like doing it for her don’t mean you’re not gonna look weird in the like normal-ass shit you wear. It’s Halloween.”

“Fine,” Walt said. He rubbed a hand down his face. “Just give me a second.”

He walked back to his bedroom as Jesse called out, “Better hurry, yo. Or we’re gonna miss all the good candy.”

It only took him two minutes to return in one of his lab coats from his old lab tech job. He had a clear pair of goggles around his neck. 

He gestured to himself. “This sufficient?”

Jesse snorted. “Giant nerd? Yeah, you’re nailing it.”

Maybe Walt wanted to shut him up, but he chose then to lean forward and kiss Jesse. It was chaste. His daughter was present of course. But Jesse still hummed against his lips, parting them and kissing him back. 

“I almost forgot the pillowcase,” Walt said. He heard Jesse yell, “ _ Amateur, _ ” which he had no idea was in Jesse’s vocabulary, before he came back with a blue cotton pillowcase. They headed back outside, locking the door before setting out down the driveway. “So, when you say ‘good’ candy, we’re talking candy corn right?”

Jesse awkwardly moved Holly to his other hip, which provoked nothing but a giggle from her. “Yo,  _ seriously _ ? Candy corn is the like  _ the worst.  _ Stuff is garbage.”

While Walt hadn’t personally consumed candy corn in over a decade, the little waxy, colorful triangles certainly held a lot of nostalgia. They were a holiday classic. A staple. Damn it if they did taste like old pencil erasers. 

“Isn’t the bulk of your diet garbage?” Walt asked.

“Bitc--”Jesse cut himself off, glancing sheepishly at Holly. “Yo, whatever. But like savory over sweet any day. Peanut butter and like peanuts are where it’s at: Reese’s cups, Snickers, Peanut Butter M & M’s, which like by the way have way better peanut butter to chocolate ratio than Reese’s Pieces. Also, Take Five’s. Anything that’s come out in the past like century. Like where have you been?”

They’d been walking about two blocks to avoid anyone Walt knew too well and who would have any questions about Jesse. He waited until they’d passed the Hawthorne’s place before pausing at a ranch-style, brick house with all its lights on where a group of little girls in pink sparkly dresses held out their bags at the front door. They waited their turn. And when it was, the middle-aged woman who greeted them was either not in a costume or in a very convincing one of Martha Stewart: pink slacks and a matching sweater.

“Happy Halloween!” she said. She gave them a heaping handful of fun size candy bars. “You and your daughter look so cute together! Too precious.”

Walt wanted to thank her until he realized she wasn’t talking to him. 

Jesse was almost blushing. “Thanks. Happy Halloween.”

She looked to Walt. “It’s refreshing seeing the grandfather out celebrating.” She fished out an Almond Joy from her candy dish shaped like a witch’s hat and handed it to him. “Have a great night.”

Jesse managed to hold himself together until they were back on the street before almost cackling. Lobbing the candy bar at him only made him laugh harder. 

“Great example, man. Littering and everything.” He pretended to look appalled. Snatching the candy from where it landed by his sneaker, he casually dropped it in the passing plastic pumpkin basket of a three-foot Batman eating a lollipop. “Off to the next house,  _ Dad.”  _

That got Holly giggling again, though no one could prove there was any correlation. Jesse certainly was in higher spirits than Walt had seen in a long time. He was laughing and joking for the entire hour of their trick-or-treating. 

It was as dark as a black Halloween cat by the time they made it home. Holly had been sleeping peacefully on Jesse’s fluffy shoulder for the last few minutes, and they tucked her into her crib without incident. 

Once they were back in the living room, Walt tossed Jesse something called a Take Five from their bag of loot on the coffee table. 

“Would you like to stay a little while? Watch a movie?”

Jesse smiled. “Hell yeah.”

He shoved his entire piece of candy in his mouth and promptly commandeered the remote control. He flipped through a couple of channels before landing on something Walt wasn’t familiar with. Currently, four women dressed in black clothes and wearing dark make-up were chanting, while one of the women was actually levitating in the air. He had no idea what was going on but Jesse looked captivated.

“What’s this one again?”

Walt sat on the other side of the couch from Jesse but smiled a little to himself when Jesse scooted over to lean into his side. His hood wasn’t on his head anymore, though he still looked a little ridiculous. 

“‘The Craft.’ It’s sort of like a modern classic about high school chicks that are witches. My aunt had a ritual to watch this every year. Some parts are sort of cheesy, but it’s like, you know, tradition and shit.”

Walt nodded. 

“I actually had a huge crush on Neve Campbell. She was in ‘Party of Five,’ too. A big part of my spank bank back in the day. What a babe.”

Walt made a show out of looking down at himself and then gesturing to the TV. “I see you have a type.”

Jesse laughed and squeezed Walt’s thigh, which gave him an interesting sensation in the pit of his stomach.

“You know you’re the only old-ass dude I’ve had a crush on.” He leaned up to give Walt a peck on the lips. 

Walt was amazed by the new things he kept discovering about Jesse’s soft and romantic side; his voice first thing in the morning the few times they’ve woken up together (after making out all night, no other funny business)--how deep and raw it was when he’d smile and say “good morning,” and kiss Walt so tenderly that it made him question how he could have gone this long without seeing it. How he could have treated Jesse so badly in the beginning.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life making it up to him.

They watched in silence for a few minutes. It appeared to be over half way through the film so it was hard to follow. Jesse kissing him didn’t help matters. However, it was certainly welcomed. 

“Is the lab coat doing anything for you?” Walt mumbled before kissing the boy’s neck.

Walt could feel Jesse scoff from where his mouth was pressed into his stubbly throat. 

“ _ Shut up _ . You look--” He moaned when Walt narrowed in on a sensitive spot. “Yo, your wife’s not coming back tonight, right? You sure she’s having like a girl’s night with her sister or whatever?”

Walt nodded. He felt a thrill in his gut when Jesse straddled him, hand on his chest, tongue sliding between his lips. Things like this were still so new between them that Walt did something he wasn’t all that used to when it came to his interactions with Jesse: he let him lead. Walt didn’t want to spook him, regardless of the holiday. 

And he was strangely content with simply kissing. They made out like a couple of teenagers, neither pushing for anything more. 

Walt felt like he was babysitting and had snuck someone in while the parents were out, groping and necking on someone else’s sofa. He was almost certain he’d given Jesse at least one hickey. While juvenile, Walt couldn’t ignore how much Jesse enjoyed his throat being kissed. 

When the doorbell rang, they sprang apart.

“I forgot to kill the porch light,” Walt said. And before Jesse could beat him to it, he added, “I know. I know. Amateur.”

Jesse snickered. “Mind if I smoke out back?”

Walt shook his head and grabbed a few Three Musketeers from their bag. He hadn’t bothered buying candy to give out. But it didn’t matter considering there were only two bored-looking teenagers in white bed sheets at his door. Walt gave them the bland candy bars anyway, switched off the outdoor lights, and met Jesse by the pool where he took the empty patio chair next to him.

While still brisk out, he figured Jesse must have been getting a little warm in his getup. He’d unfastened a few buttons--a peak of bare chest--and was casually enjoying his cigarette. The blue light from the pool and the full moon were the only lighting they had. 

But that apparently didn’t deter Walt from ogling Jesse, something Walt wasn’t aware he was doing until his eyes found Jesse’s again. And the boy’s eyes--much bluer than the underwater pool light or anything Walt could ever manufacture in a lab--were simply glimmering: playful, flirtatious, maybe even aroused. 

Jesse stubbed out his cigarette against the glass table next to him. “Yo, if you stare any harder”--

Walt pulled Jesse forward by the front of his onesie and kissed him silent for the second time of the night. Though that was after a momentary murmur of surprise against Walt’s lips before they picked back off from before they’d been interrupted.

It was only a natural turn of events for Jesse to slide back into his lap, even with his knees awkwardly knocking the metal armrests of Walt’s patio chair. That only further exposed the boy’s groin, legs splayed in a way that made Walt’s mouth water. There was an exhilarating sort of filthiness doing this outside. He could hear the sounds of a party not too far off: music and the clink of bottles and muffled voices.

With a speed perhaps neither of them were prepared for, Walt had Jesse’s costume unbuttoned to below his navel. He kissed Jesse through the whole thing. But he didn’t need much concentration since the boy’s outfit was so similar to Holly’s, which Walt had more than a little experience maneuvering.

Walt only pulled away to slide his hand into Jesse’s boxers. 

“ _ Good, Jesse _ .”

His words were practically involuntary, just above a sigh from Walt. But Jesse was rigid and slick in Walt’s hand and that deserved recognition.

“Yo...we’re...we’re in your backyard. What? Fucking  _ perv _ .” Jesse’s breath hitched as Walt thumbed the head of his cock. He shuddered, letting his head droop into Walt’s shoulder. He bucked into Walt’s fist. “Fuck it.”

Walt had never touched a man like this before, but Jesse was making it easy. He was grinding into Walt. No hesitations. Really giving Walt an intimate view of what it would look like to be fucked by Jesse Pinkman. Though in this instance, Walt literally had him by the balls, responsible for every little sigh and--dare say--whimper Jesse was gasping out. 

He wondered when the last time it was that Jesse had masturbated with how much of a frenzy the boy was in, seemingly so overwhelmed with his own pleasure, he hadn’t done more than kiss Walt in a way of reciprocating. Walt couldn’t blame him with how violently Jesse’s hands were shaking, feeling like windblown autumn leaves flitting around for some part of Walt to grasp onto. 

“That’s it,” Walt said. Jesse’s trembling was getting more spastic. “That’s good, Jesse. Being so good.”

With Jesse’s lips wet against Walt’s ear, he groaned, “ _ Mr. White,”  _ cumming in Walt’s hand.

No one had ever called Walt that during sex. It was invigorating, and made his pulse skyrocket.

He wasn’t sure all that he was feeling until the full force of his coughing fit rattled him from down deep in his core. His vision blurred as his lunges ached. He coughed into his clean hand, couldn’t breath, couldn’t tell which way was up.

Maybe the glass door opened and closed before opening again.

Someone was touching his arm.

Finally the moon came back into view, Earth steady beneath his shoes, and Jesse was crouched by his side wearing an expression of absolute terror and concern.

“Thank you,” Walt said. He took Jesse’s offered glass of cold tap water. “Look, before you say anything, it’s not that bad. Not the cancer. I just...just got a little excited. I’m fine. Really. I’m fine.”

Walt felt like saying anything more would backfire on him. He hadn’t been feeling himself lately, but couldn’t bring himself to go to the doctor’s. He didn’t want to face the truth headon. In a way he was lying to the both of them.

Jesse examined Walt’s hands. “Well, at least you’re not like coughing up blood. Still looked fucking scary though. You sure you--”

“I’m fine,” Walt said. He threw in just an edge of a smile.

Jesse returned it with some reluctance. “Man, let’s go inside. Like watch another movie or something. I’d uh...you know return the favor, but I don’t want you like having a heart attack on me.”

Walt lumbered out of the chair with Jesse’s assistance and sighed.

“Is that some sort of old man joke?”

Jesse shrugged with a soft sort of smirk. “I mean, like if the shoe fits, right?”

Walt let that one slide and slid off his own shoes once they were back on the sofa. 

“I know this one,” Walt said. 

On the television was ‘A Nightmare Before Christmas.’ Junior liked this movie, and out of the claymation films he’d watched, Walt would have to admit it was one of the better ones. 

“Think I watched this movie like twenty times when I was younger,” Jesse said. He practically melted against Walt’s chest, both of them horizontal on the couch. “Probably my favorite Tim Burton movie. Plus, it’s like a Christmas flick too. It works on like...different levels.”

Walt hummed in agreement and draped his arm around him. 

“You know with your costume, it’s almost like having a blanket on me,” Walt said.

It seemed a little more than stupid once he said it, but Jesse laughed anyway.

“Yeah? Well, don’t go falling asleep on me.” He leaned towards the coffee table and rustled around in their pillowcase before retrieving a tiny bag of candy corn. “Get some sugar, yo.”

Walt was fully aware he would never live it down, but he set the packet aside and instead kissed Jesse. 

He was pretty sure his pun didn’t go unnoticed once Jesse lightly snickered. But it was fleeting, before he kissed Walt back, their movie a comfortable background noise, Jesse in his arms. 

Health be damned, Walt couldn’t remember feeling any better. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was a bitterly cold November day when it all came to a screeching halt.

It was a Monday morning when it happened; Jesse had last seen Mr. White on Saturday when he brought over Thanksgiving leftovers he had from dinner with the family. They watched ‘A Christmas Story’ while chowing down on turkey and mashed potatoes. 

Jesse had put his head on Mr. White’s shoulder, trying not to fall asleep while they watched ‘A Nightmare Before Christmas’ yet again--it was pretty much becoming "their" movie. Mr. White was sort of mindlessly caressing his arm with his fingertips and it was making him drowsy and a little horny. 

“Sleepy?” Mr. White asked when Jesse yawned.

“Yeah. I guess it’s the stuff in the turkey or whatever. I always used to fall asleep right after dinner when my family… when we ate Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Tryptophan,” Mr. White said automatically, as if he was in a rush to correct him. Jesse didn’t take any offense; that’s just how Mr. White was. He couldn’t help himself. “Do you miss your mom and dad?”

“Hell no,” Jesse sneered. “They always do this thing on Thanksgiving where we have to go around and say what we’re thankful for or some bullshit. They never liked what I said, though. Of course Jake always had the perfect answer. Master suck-up, my little bro.”

Walt made some kind of reassuring noise and took Jesse’s hand, stroking it with his thumb, which was both hot and comforting. 

“Why don’t we go to bed? You can take a nap…”

“A nap, huh? Is that all you have in mind?”

Mr. White chuckled. They went upstairs to Jesse’s room, and sure enough, it wasn’t long before Mr. White was undressing him--which Jesse noted he loved to do; taking his shirt off and admiring his chest, kissing his dragon tattoo softly, unzipping his jeans, slipping a hand in his boxers before taking them off… it was all a show that they both thoroughly enjoyed.

Jesse really did appreciate how goddamn good Mr. White was getting at handjobs, and how much he seemed to enjoy giving Jesse pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. Although a small part of him still thought this was all really weird, he also loved the way Mr. White looked in bed; with his glasses off, his clothes all askew, determination and lust in his eyes. There was something else there, too, though--when before, all Jesse saw was how much he frustrated Mr. White, how their partnership was always teetering on the edge of anger and contempt, but now there was a softness to how Mr. White regarded Jesse. The way he smiled like a senior in high school going to prom when Jesse opened the door, the way he was always finding an excuse to touch him even when they were just sharing a meal together; how he seemed to basically worship at the alter of Jesse's body when they were in the bedroom. Jesse was into it. He was very, very into it.

But it _still_ wasn't enough. Because after Mr. White cleaned him up, Jesse reached for him; tried to take his pants off, but he _still_ wouldn’t let him. It was so irritatingly frustrating. 

“You know, this handjob stuff is cool and all, but there are other things we can do. Maybe someday you can even let me touch you.”

“Jesse…” Mr. White grabbed his hand and their fingers just slid in together, a natural thing at this point. 

“Why won’t you let me? I want to make you feel good, too. As good as you make me feel.” There were so many other things Jesse wanted to say, to do, but... what was the point?

Instead of answering--he _never_ answered--Mr. White kissed Jesse softly, letting his hand linger on his face. Jesse could feel his anger fading, as it always did when he kissed him like that. It was at that point that he just knew. He fucking knew that he was in too deep with this shit. He should have known that from the beginning; he should have realized that this was never going to end well. But there wasn’t anything Jesse could do about it now. He was truly fucked.

He thought about just going ahead and blurting it out when Mr. White started coughing, and he didn’t stop for a long time. Jesse got him some water and rubbed his back and generally did anything he could think of to help, but the coughing just wouldn’t end. There still wasn’t any blood, but… Jesse was worried. He was always worried.

When the fit finally came to an end, Jesse said, “Have you been to the doctor yet?”

“I have an appointment next week. It’s okay, Jesse. I feel okay.”

“But you’re definitely _not_ okay, yo…”

“I’m okay when I’m with you,” Mr. White said, his voice still shaky and deep from the coughing. Jesse sighed. How could he be mad at him when he said shit like that? But he was still neglecting his health, and not letting Jesse touch him, and it was weird and annoying and what could Jesse possibly do about it? 

When Mr. White was at the front door ready to leave, Jesse blocked the door and kissed him for a long time. He didn’t want Mr. White to go. He wanted to keep him in his sight; he wanted more, he wanted _everything._ Why was that too much to ask?

“Jesse… come on, you know I want to stay, but it’s… it’s complicated.”

It's _not_ complicated, Jesse wanted to scream. It wasn’t complicated at all.

“Yo, Mr. White, I… I need to tell you something. It’s like, kind of important…” It had been on the tip of his tongue all night and he couldn’t wait any longer. Maybe if he told him, Mr. White would change his mind about some things and realize how uncomplicated it all was.

But Mr. White shook his head instead, and Jesse felt as though he could actually feel his heart literally break.

“I know, Jesse. You don’t have to say it. I know.” He kissed Jesse’s forehead, which meant nothing to Jesse. He might as well have kissed the air for all it meant. “I’ll see you soon.”

Jesse gave up. He was always giving up. And Mr. White was always pulling him back in. It wasn’t a great cycle, but Jesse was an addict. He’d take what he could get.

“Yeah. On Monday. We have that house over in Rio Rancho.”

“Right. Monday. Good night.” He gave Jesse one more lingering kiss and then he was gone.

*****

But on Monday morning, Mr. White wasn’t at the Vamanos Pest office when Jesse arrived. He was calling Mr. White when he got a text from Mike that said “Albuquerque Memorial, hurry.” Jesse’s stomach bottomed out and his chest immediately started aching in a way he knew would never stop.

He drove like a banshee out of hell to the hospital and hurried to the sixth floor, where Mike directed him to go. He ran down the hallway and stopped short when he saw Skyler lingering in front of one of the rooms. She was stoically talking to the doctor, not crying and falling apart, and for a moment Jesse thought everything was going to be okay. But...

Mike came out of nowhere and put his hand on Jesse’s arm. “Oh, kid… I’m so sorry.”

“Why? What are you sorry about? Where is Mr. White? Yo, just let me see him, Mike. Let me see him!” Jesse’s voice was getting louder with desperation. Skyler’s icy glance from all the way down the hall sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Kid, you gotta relax. You’re going to cause a scene. Here, come with me. We’ll get you some coffee.”

“I don’t. Want. Coffee. I want to know where he is!” 

Skyler walked down the hall and put her icy hand on Jesse’s arm. “Jesse Pinkman. Of course. How is it that I only see you during times like this?”

Jesse didn’t know how to respond. He just stared at her, willing her to tell him what the hell was going on.

“Walk with me, Jesse.”

Jesse tried so hard to calm himself down as he nodded and walked with Skyler down the hall. He didn’t know where they were going. He didn’t care.

“Well. As you know, Walt has been ill for quite some time. He was in remission, but he was still sick. Last night I heard him collapse on the floor of the living room. He didn’t respond when I tried to revive him. An ambulance took him here, and he was in a coma for a while. Walt died about an hour ago. They’re saying it was a pulmonary embolism. It’s a blood clot in the lungs, and it can take someone’s life very quickly.”

“No… no, no, no…” Of course he should have expected this, but he was still stunned. How could Mr. White just be _gone?_

Jesse was feeling faint himself. He wished he could have a pulmonary embolism, too. At least he’d also die quickly.

Skyler regarded Jesse. Her facial expression was the complete opposite of his. He wasn’t exactly surprised by her reaction, but he wondered how she ended up this way. To be completely cold to the fact that her husband just died. Would Jesse have ended up feeling the same about Mr. White eventually? Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how he looked at it) he’d never have to find out.

“I know what you were up to in these past few months, and I say, good for the two of you. I'm glad he was happy in his final days. But don’t expect me to comfort you. Our life together started unraveling when he began associating with you.”

Even in his unbelievable devastation, Jesse knew that wasn’t completely true. It was the cancer that made everything fall apart. But he wasn’t about to disagree with Skyler. 

“Can I see him?” Jesse pleaded.

Skyler scoffed. “No. Only family. And… they’re about to take him to the morgue.” Skyler shrugged, as though it was just a normal day. It was infuriating. How was she going to tell her son the news? How would she explain this to her daughter when Holly was old enough? In the same casual fucking way she told Jesse?

Maybe Skyler saw the sheer heartbreak in Jesse’s eyes because she softened just a little and put his hand on his arm. It was ice cold and he wanted to snatch his arm away from her.

“I know how you must be feeling. I would have been the same way once upon a time. But he does this, Jesse. He only sets us up to fail. He gives and then he takes. He was a rotten bastard, but I loved him.”

Jesse couldn’t disagree, really. 

“By the looks of you, I’m guessing you know exactly what I mean. You poor thing. Get out of here, Jesse. There’s nothing for you here. Walt is gone. It’s time for his family to deal with that, and time for you to leave.”

Skyler didn’t look back at him as she walked away. 

Jesse didn’t know what to do. He wanted to sink into the floor and disappear, he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. Instead he looked over at Mike, who only knew Jesse needed to get the hell out of the hospital and fast. 

Mike nodded to Skyler and took Jesse’s arm. Jesse let Mike lead him away--to his car, then to the Vamanos Pest office, where Mike spent the rest of the day on the phone. Jesse didn’t hear a word he said. 

“Jesse. Jesse, look at me, please. Kid!”

Jesse managed to pull his head up and look at Mike. He knew he had to give some kind of indication that he understood Mike or he would slap him around again just like he did on the morning after Jane died. Jesse was really racking up a body count of lost love interests here. 

“Look… I have a hunch about what you and Walter were up to behind the scenes here, and that’s none of my business. Except to say I’m not surprised that scumbag asshole took advantage of you. Don’t-- _do not_ \--disagree with me, Jesse. Maybe you don’t see it now, maybe you never will. It doesn’t matter now. The fact is, you can’t stay here like this. Not only is Skyler on the war path, but you’re in no emotional state to be alone. Saul talked to the disappearer and they’re going to take care of it all. You’re going to Alaska in a few days. So say your good-byes to anyone who might be interested, because life as you know it is about to end. You get what I’m saying here?”

“I get it.”

“Good. Saul said he’ll handle selling your house and settling your business interests. Everything will be taken care of, kid. Can you make it home?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can.” Jesse wasn’t so sure about that, actually. But so what if he ran his car off a bridge on the way home? Anything would be better than this.

*****

The funeral was held the day before Jesse left town. He stood far back away from the crowd; of course Skyler and Junior, who was holding Holly, were in the front row. They deserved to be. Jesse was just Mr. White’s midlife (or more accurately, end of life) crisis. He meant nothing to anyone now.

Skyler and Junior didn’t cry but Holly never stopped crying. Jesse felt a horrible pang in his heart; he knew if he could just hold Holly for a minute or two, she would stop crying. But of course that was never going to happen. Instead, he just watched and listened, his heart shattering into a million shards of glass. Glass. Heh.

Ed took Jesse to Alaska; he hid in the back of an empty tanker truck for days on end, it seemed like. It didn’t matter. He just closed his eyes and emptied his mind. When they finally made it to Alaska, Ed showed him his new home. It was a small log cabin on the outskirts of Fairbanks, miles away from any neighbors. It suited Jesse. He didn’t care if he never saw anyone ever again.

The cabin was furnished with a bed, a small couch, and a few ancient appliances. When Ed left, Jesse found his sheets in the box he packed them in, put them on the bed, buried himself under the covers and went to sleep.

He never wanted to wake up.


	6. Chapter 6

HALLOWEEN - ONE YEAR LATER

There was a knock on the door of the cabin and Jesse sighed as he opened it to a kid with a Scream mask and a little ballerina girl. He tried to smile and pretend like he wasn’t completely falling apart at the seams, but that was a little hard, seeing what day it was. The kids thanked him and ran off to the car. His nearest neighbor lived about two miles down the road, so thankfully he wasn’t getting a lot of trick or treaters.

Jesse returned his attention to the situation that had been bugging him out all day.

There was a single candy corn on the kitchen counter top. It was sitting there right next to the sink. Jesse had stared at it all morning. What the hell was it doing there? Jesse couldn’t stand candy corn. In fact, he had only known one person his whole life who liked them. 

That asshole.

He would have chalked it up to a weird coincidence were it not for the fact that he kept finding this kind of shit all over the place. Jesse had been doing odd jobs around town, not because he needed the money, but because he had to get out of the cabin every now and then or he’d go absolutely insane. He needed to hear something other than the repetitive thoughts in his head.

In his car--a beat up Chevy pick-up truck he bought for $400 from an old lady he cut down a tree for--he found a Take Five wrapper. He hadn't eaten a Take Five--or Peanut Butter M&Ms for that matter--since last Halloween. So how the hell did it end up in his car? He eventually chalked it up to some kid throwing it through the open window of his truck. That didn’t really make sense either, but something had to.

Just a few days ago, on a long walk through the snow with his two dogs, Penny brought him something and left it by his feet, wagging her tail. Penny was a weird mix of a hound dog and a retriever and she loved to find things and bring them to Jesse. Bernadette, a pit bull he found on the side of the road, just looked on approvingly.

“Good girl, Penny. Good girl,” he said softly, because Penny was still a little afraid of men and their loud voices, the guy at the shelter had explained, but for some reason she got along just fine with Jesse. “What did you find, huh?”

She continued to wag her tail while Jesse picked up what looked like a red chili pepper. He stared at it for a long time. He must have been going completely insane because this did not look like something native to Alaska. It looked like it had come directly from the Farmer’s Market in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Now there was a candy corn on the kitchen counter top. This was no longer a coincidence. It was a goddamn haunting. And Jesse finally had enough.

“Yo, Mr. White. If you’re in this fucking house, I need you to either say something or get the hell out of here. I’m trying to forget about your old, crusty ass. This is not helping! God, even when you’re dead, you’re still an asshole.”

His dogs started barking and growling even before he heard a deep voice from behind him say, “That’s no way to speak of the dead, Jesse.”

*****

A few candy wrappers and a rogue piece of candy corn weren't the only things haunting Jesse.

Jesse obviously wasn't a stranger to grieving; he had been a complete mess when Aunt Ginny died. They grew so close when he took care of her during her illness. He was absolutely devastated after her death, even though he was prepared for it. 

And of course there was Jane. Sweet, sweet Jane. He never thought he could make it back from losing her; she was the love of his life. He _still_ missed her every day.

But the loss of Mr. White was somehow different in every way. No matter how hard Jesse tried to move on--and he did, he _really_ did, it seemed like an impossible task. 

So many times he'd turn a corner and see Mr. White standing there, his respirator over his face, pouring some kind of chemical into a measuring cup. He'd blink and Mr. White would be gone. Or he'd wake up and hear the sound of an egg being cracked in the kitchen and the smell of coffee wafting through the cabin. On the few times they spent the night together, Mr. White always insisted on making them omelets for breakfast. Jesse wasn't a huge coffee fan so Mr. White brought his own coffee maker and kept it at Jesse's house. Jesse would see the thing next to the sink when he got up in the middle of the night craving a bowl of cereal or whatever, and it would make him smile. 

It was hard to fall asleep when all Jesse saw when he closed his eyes was Mr. White kissing him softly, murmuring sweet nonsense. He swore he could actually feel Mr. White's comforting hand on his back, making Jesse sigh with contentment while he buried his face in Mr. White's neck. 

Sometimes it felt like Mr. White was watching his every move. So fucking typical of the guy to not release his grip on Jesse even in the goddamn afterlife. The guy _always_ had to be in control, and quite frankly, Jesse was pretty tired of this shit. All he wanted was to move on, and he didn't know why that was too much to ask.

*****

Jesse’s skin turned cold. He didn’t want to turn around because he had no idea what kind of state Mr. White would be in, if he was actually even there--maybe he was hearing things. He almost _hoped_ he was hearing things.

“You’re not hearing things,” Mr. White remarked. It sounded like he was even smiling a little as he said it. 

Jesse turned slowly, saying a silent prayer that Mr. White wouldn’t be some scary ass skeleton or something. Instead, he found him in pretty much the same state he was in when he died, only in far better shape. He had some color to him; he looked like a healthy version of himself--but a _different_ version of himself. Like he had been through a slightly malfunctioning copy machine. 

He was also wearing _jeans_ with his usual button-down shirt and dumbass Member's Only jacket. Jesse had to admit the jeans looked good on the guy. The ghost. Whatever.

Jesse didn’t know if he wanted to embrace Mr. White or punch him. It was a toss-up at this point. He didn’t do either one just yet. 

Since he didn’t even know where to start, Jesse said, “Yo, so now you can read my thoughts, huh? I bet you _love_ that.”

“No, Jesse, I can’t read your thoughts. I just figured you probably thought you were going crazy. You’re not. I’m really here.”

“But… _where_ were you? And… how are you even here?” Jesse asked petulantly. He reached out and poked Walt’s shoulder. It felt real. Like skin and bone.

“Please believe me when I tell you it’s impossible to explain.”

“Why, because I’m just some dumbass junkie idiot?” Jesse demanded.

“No, because even I don’t understand it. I’ve experimented a few times to manifest myself physically into the present, and this is the first time it worked. Perhaps because you called me here.”

“Yeah, because you keep haunting my ass with candy and shit. What’s that about? Don’t answer me--I don’t really care. Like, whatever, weird ass ghost of Mr. White.”

Mr. White was quiet, looking down at the floor of the cabin. He seemed to be considering something. This only made Jesse more angry, but he wasn’t getting anywhere with frustration. So he sat down on his bed, and took a deep breath, and another, and another, to calm himself.

“If you’re not going to talk, then I will. Let’s start with… I just want to know how you could have left me like that. Especially when you're just hanging around now, not leaving me alone. Like why even bother dying in the first place?”

An eerie silence filled the room. Penny growled a little but stayed on her bed in the corner.

Mr. White avoided his eyes. “I couldn’t help it--I was sick.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You never went to the doctor. You never even tried to get help. I could buy that you’d die eventually even if you did, but you _didn’t._ And you fucking knew it! You knew you were on the way out and _you didn’t tell me.”_

Jesse was trying so hard to stay calm, but it was becoming impossible. He was getting so worked up. He’d been living in misery for the past year and now Mr. White was here, why? To rub his fucking face in what he was missing? Yeah, he dug Alaska, it was a new start and all that shit, but it didn’t cure anything. He still woke up craving glass, he still was a junkie fuck-up, he still had no future to speak of, really. Oh, there were a lot of things he could do. The news has gotten around town that he was a decent craftsman; he could probably start some kind of woodworking business. But it just didn’t seem worth it. He would just fuck it up like he did everything else. Plus, Mr. White left everything up in the air when he died. Jesse not being able to tell him all that he felt and wanted and needed really left a mark on Jesse’s soul. He hated to be such a dramatic little bitch about it, but… if the shoe fits.

“I didn’t want to alarm you, Jesse--”

“Stop. Stop it! You’re here for a reason and it’s not to _lie_ to me. Tell me the truth for once. I’m literally begging you.”

There was another knock at his door. Jesse was tempted to ignore it but he needed to get away from this man--or whatever the hell he currently was--for a second. He walked to the door and almost slammed it closed as soon as he saw the costume that greeted him.

It was Max. From ‘Where the Wild Things Are.’ 

What the fuck.

Jesse could only laugh.

He gave the startled kid some candy and he couldn’t close the door quick enough. 

When he turned around, Mr. White was chuckling. 

“Yo, shut up. What, did you make that happen with your voodoo powers?”

“It was purely coincidence.”

“Yeah, I buy that.”

Mr. White moved closer to Jesse, which made Jesse back into the front door. He wanted to move, he wanted to escape, but he couldn't. Or didn't.

When Mr. White touched Jesse’s face, Jesse didn’t mean to let it happen. He didn’t want to give in to his touch, but a thousand different memories formed in his fucked up head all at once. Falling off the roof onto the ground, seeing Mr. White in the police car, having no idea his life was about to change forever. Cooking for the first time in the RV, the insults they hurled back and forth at each other, Mr. White saving him from the crack den, Mr. White running over those dealers to protect Jesse.

And Mr. White’s kiss, his lips, his searching tongue. The hand on his face, his thumb caressing Jesse's cheek. The little groan Mr. White always made when Jesse bit his lip. That was the past, but now it was the present, too. Jesse gave into it.

They stood at the door for a long time, desperately kissing like no time had passed, like Jesse had never even been to the fucking guy’s funeral and watched his daughter sob until she finally fell asleep in her brother’s arms.

Eventually, Jesse found it in himself to put an end to this. He pushed Mr. White away.

“Yo, you can’t just show up and do this. You can’t kiss me and pretend it didn’t happen. I need some kind of explanation, man! Do you know how hard it’s been without you? I can barely even _breathe_ sometimes. And it doesn't help when you won't leave me alone. Why won't you just _leave me alone?!_ ”

Mr. White put a steady hand on Jesse’s shoulder; Jesse shrugged it off. 

“You can’t touch me until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

He brushed past Mr. White and moved into his kitchen, where he got out a bottle of beer. He didn’t offer Mr. White one--he doubted ghosts liked beer. Mr. White reluctantly followed him into the kitchen.

“I was terrified, Jesse,” Mr. White finally said. He looked into Jesse’s eyes; Jesse was startled by how bright his own eyes were--a weird mixture of azure blue and emerald green. He never noticed that before. Or maybe death just brought out the color.

“Yeah? What the hell were you scared of, _Walt?_ Was I just too spooky for you?” 

“You just started to mean too much to me. And I felt like maybe you _wanted_ too much from me. I knew I was in bad health, and I knew it would hurt you when I couldn’t come back from it, but…”

Jesse’s heart was beating way too fast. Everything was happening way too fast. 

“But what? Please, Mr. White. Tell me.”

“But I was too selfish to stop. To stop touching you. To stop kissing you.” 

That was _not_ an explanation, but Jesse knew this was probably as much as he was going to get. 

“Please, Jesse,” Mr. White said, echoing him. “I don’t have much time here. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

“You can’t,” Jesse said automatically. He couldn’t help it. He was hurting too much to let this… _ghost asshole_ waltz in his life and fuck it up yet again.

Mr. White’s face crumpled and Jesse’s heart broke. But it only made him more mad.

“Fuck you, Mr. White. For _months_ you let me think you weren’t dying. You led me on. You _never_ let me touch you. And the last time I saw you, you wouldn’t… you wouldn’t…” Oh, god, he was crying again.

“I wouldn’t what? _Please_ tell me, Jesse. I know it won’t mean much to you, but it was so hard to come here. To get back to you. I don’t know if I have it in me to do it again, so please tell me now.”

 _“Why?_ Why did you come back when you wouldn’t even let me tell you how I had fallen in love with you? Before you left, that night by the door, _you knew_ that’s what I was going to say and you wouldn’t even let me. You just _left._ And then you fucking _died.”_

He let Mr. White grab him, wrap his arms around him, hold him close. Jesse almost felt like he could even hear his heart beating, but… it was only his own heart. Of course.

“Oh, Jesse… of course I knew that, because I had fallen in love with you, too. I couldn’t bear to hear it when I knew time was running out. It’s not fair to you, I know. But we both know how selfish I can be. Please… how can I make it up to you?”

Jesse gave in yet again. Of course he gave in. “You can let me touch _you_ for once. Can you… can you do that?”

“Why do you think I came all this way?” Mr. White whispered in Jesse’s ear. 

Jesse finally smiled. He sniffed and wiped his tears with the cuff of his hoodie. “Well. Get your ghostly ass in that bed so you can start making it up to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GHOST SEX!


	7. Chapter 7

Walt had never believed in Heaven or Hell. He was always a practical man, a scientist. He was convinced that everything would just end upon death, which gave him some much-needed solace in those last weeks before he died. Peace. Silence. Nothingness.

Except he was wrong.

Where he ended up... it wasn't Heaven, it wasn't Hell, it wasn't a hole in the ground where nothing ceased to exist. It was... a void. If he had to compare it to something, death was like a dream where he was endlessly wandering around his elementary school and never finding the exit. Was this his eternity? Or did he need to find closure before he could move beyond this  
invisible world?

None of that mattered now, because he finally found his way back to Jesse. It took some time to figure out how to manifest himself in Jesse's world, but he did it. Touching Jesse, kissing him--more than that, finally confessing to him--made Walt feel more alive than he even felt in those last few months he actually was. 

He had followed Jesse to the bedroom, which, he happened to note, was actually more tidy than he would have anticipated. And there weren't any bongs hidden in the corners.

Jesse noticed Walt curiously looking around his room.

"Yo, I've stayed off the glass, and everything else, too. Not only because I wouldn't know where to find any here, but also... it's kind of like I didn't think you'd approve, or whatever?" Jesse looked a little embarrassed to admit it. 

Walt grabbed Jesse's hand. "That's good, Jesse. I'm proud of you." Simple words, but he knew they meant a lot to Jesse. In fact, Jesse grinned, like this easy compliment made his whole day. It was so endearing, Walt couldn't help but maneuver Jesse to his bed, kissing him with renewed purpose.

"How long do we have?" Jesse asked between kisses.

"I don't know... an hour, maybe more," Walt said, not having any clue if that was true or not. 

"Well... guess we got to make it count, then," Jesse said. He quickly stripped down to his boxers, and Walt reached out to touch him.

"No," Jesse said sternly. "Not yet. My turn now."

Walt didn't argue as Jesse took his time undressing him. When he took his shirt off, Jesse looked determined as he kissed his way down, starting with his lips--Walt always enjoyed how Jesse kissed him, at first slowly and subtly, then with more intensity, and by the end it was always with reckless abandon, like he was trying to consume his entire soul. 

He then moved on to Walt's neck, leaving a mark on his throat. Walt just closed his eyes as Jesse explored his chest with first a light touch of his fingers; grazing his chest hair, his stomach, carefully over his surgery scar. He went back to a nipple, only lightly touching it, causing the redness to harden instantly. Walt moaned as Jesse then licked it and flicked it with  
his tongue, and sharply exhaled as he nicked it a little with his teeth.

Jesse retreated from his nipple and touched his scar again, then kissed it carefully, as though it was still fresh.

Walt didn't want to ruin the moment by talking, but he was curious. "You seem fixated on that..."

When Jesse looked at him with his ocean blue eyes, Walt wasn't prepared for sincerity he found in them. "It's just... you went through so much already, and for what? Just to fucking die anyway."

Walt grabbed Jesse's hand and squeezed it, and Jesse came back up to kiss him. Walt cradled his head, touched his face; if he was going to have to wander the halls of eternity, at least he would be able to have this moment etched in his mind forever. 

Jesse lightly touched his forearm, which would have caused goosebumps were he still alive. 

“How did you get even _more_ freckles? You spend a lot of time in the sun wherever you are?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he moved his hand slowly down Walt's chest, meandering to Walt's jeans, unzipping them but not taking them off. He palmed him through his underwear.

Walt moaned as Jesse thumbed the head of his cock, feeling the moisture leak out.

"Mmm. I guess dead dudes still get hard," Jesse noted with interest.

"You like that, huh?

"Yeah. I like... a lot of things," Jesse said, stroking him gently, almost _too_ gently.

"Like what?" Walt couldn't help but ask.

"I like... how strong you are. How much bigger than me you are. I like... holding you in my arms, but I like it more when _you_ hold _me._ I like..." It seemed as though Jesse ran out of words, which was fine with Walt. He was always able to communicate better with his actions, Walt had found. And now as he was stroking Walt, kissing him, biting his lip, just wanting so badly to _connect_ with him, Walt remembered feeling like Jesse's love was the only thing tethering him to life, and now it's the only thing keeping him from death.

And almost as if he was reading his mind...

“I love you,” Jesse whispered in his ear. "I wanted you to know that before... this all ends." 

“I… love… you…” Mr. White managed to breathe as Jesse stroked him harder.

“Good, because… I want something else from you.”

“Anything…”

Jesse said, “Good. Don’t leave, yo. I’ll be right back.” Jesse disappeared for a moment and came back with a small jar of Vaseline. If his heart had been beating, Walt was sure it would have stopped for that split second. 

"Jesse... are you sure? This is what you want?"

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure. If I’m going to participate in some weird bestiality shit, we’re gonna go all the way.”

“Necrophilia, Jesse. And that’s not quite how I’d describe it, actually.”

“Whatever, yo.”

“No, actually, it’s a pretty _important_ distinction to make, Jesse!”

“Bestiality or necrophilia, either way I want you to fuck me,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes.

Mr. White shook his head, but he was grinning, and he was intrigued. He took the Vaseline from Jesse and did not waste any time in pulling Jesse’s boxers off and stroking him with renewed vigor. Jesse closed his eyes and sighed. He was so beautiful in this state, Walt had always thought. He loved to watched him in the throes of passion. Jesse truly was stunning.

“Spectrophilia. That’s what… sex with a ghost is called,” Mr. White said as he continued to stroke Jesse with purpose.

“Jesus, Mr. White. I don’t give a shit! And… what you’re doing… is great and all but we’ve done the handjob thing before. Please… I _need_ you, Mr. White. I need _more._ ”

“I need you, too, Jesse. I need _this._ ”

Before Walt opened the jar, Jesse grabbed his hand. "Wait. Promise me you'll try to come back. Like, I don't know, every Halloween or something."

"Jesse... as much as I want to make that promise, I can't. It was hard enough to get here now..."

"Please at least _try_?" Jesse looked so serious and resolute. 

“Yes. I will try. Of course I'll try.” He had no clue how he'd accomplish that, but for Jesse, he'd try.

"Good. That's... good, yo." Jesse laid on his back and opened his legs for Walt, which, speaking of stunning...

“Like, try not to explode or something when we’re doing this, okay?” Jesse said. "I don't want your ghostly remains all over my bedroom."

“I’ll try,” Walt said again. He opened the Vaseline and coated his fingers with it. He put a warm hand on Jesse’s belly as he worked one, two, three fingers inside of him. Jesse moaned and fluttered his eyelashes and arched his back; so beautiful that Walt could barely stand it. 

"So tight... god, Jesse, you're so tight," Walt murmured. He couldn't wait to bury himself inside of Jesse; to experience that warmth all around him.

When Walt finally entered Jesse, they both groaned with pleasure and excitement. Jesse felt so incredible, and he was gripping Walt's arms so tightly. Walt felt as though he was filling Jesse up bit by bit, dismantling him and putting him back together one thrust at a time. Jesse clung to him. He kept his eyes open, meeting Walt's own, staring at each other, trying to memorize this moment because it may never happen again. 

“Oh, god, Mr. White,” Jesse moaned as Walt found his prostate and rocked into it over and over again. “You feel so good. I… love… you…” Walt couldn't hear him say it enough. 

"I love you... I love this... oh, Jesse, you're so good, so... good."

They moved together, trying to last as long as possible. Walt leaned down to kiss Jesse's chest, his nipples, his neck, his lips. When Walt stopped to catch his breath, Jesse grabbed his neck and wouldn't let the kissing end. They kissed again and again and again until Walt felt that white hot heat start to boil over. He took Jesse's throbbing dick in his hands and stroked it, feeling the same heat from inside of Jesse. They both gasped and heaved and sighed as they came together. 

Walt felt... empty. Like he did what he came here to do, but he couldn't leave yet. He wasn't ready. Jesse was still in his arms, how could he disappear now?

“Thank you… for coming here. For finding me," Jesse said, curling up into Walt's chest. 

“I’d do it again over and over if I could.”

“I bet you would, you dead perv,” Jesse said. Mr. White chuckled. But he was feeling emotional, and needed to get something off his chest.

“I hope this helped you in some way, Jesse. I know I left you in quite a state, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. Please be well. Please be happy. I will try my hardest to come back, but if I don’t… know that I love you. Know that I’m real. Know that we… are real.”

Jesse nodded, and Walt wiped off the one tear that escaped on his cheek. 

“And promise me one more thing--that you won’t wait for me. You’ll find someone else someday, and please. Please don’t wait. Promise me that, Jesse.”

“I promise… like I’d wait around for your deceased ass, anyway.”

"Ahh... that's the junkie imbecile that I know and love," Walt said. Jesse laughed, but Walt could tell his heart wasn't in it.

Speaking of hearts...

"Jesse... I need you to do me a favor. I don't know what's going to happen now, but I'm fading. And I don't want the last image you have of me as..." Walt shook his head, not knowing how to express what he really meant. 

Jesse surprised him--he didn't fall apart, he didn't beg him to stay, he didn't cry. Instead, he said, "Yo, I get it, Mr. White. You don't want me to see you spontaneously combust or whatever. Look, I'll... I'll take the dogs for a walk. I'm sorry... that you have to go. I'm sorry you're dead. Please try to come back to me."

"I will, Jesse. We'll... put a pin in it."

Jesse smiled sadly. "Yeah... we'll do that."

Walt kissed him one last time. It was bittersweet.

They didn't say anything else; there was nothing left to say. Jesse silently got dressed and said, "Come on, girls. Let's go outside." His two dogs followed him happily out of the door. 

And then Walt died for the second time.

*****

It wasn’t just because Mr. White told him to, Jesse would reassure himself. He was turning his life around because he wanted to, _and_ because Mr. White told him to.

In the weeks following Mr. White's "visit," Jesse took the dogs for long walks, inhaling the cold air and exhaling it out. He started going into town more and chatting with the locals, finding out what he could do for them. He found some brochures for the local community college and at least browsed through them. Jesse even found an N/A meeting in Fairbanks that he started going to once or twice a week. 

Jesse looked forward to the next day and the day after that. He was healing. More importantly, Jesse started to make things again. He started with a stool he used to reach the top shelf of his kitchen. Then he made a jewelry box for the elderly clerk at the grocery store, who kind of looked like his grandmother. Word got around about his friendly demeanor and impressive skills, and he was sort of in demand. It gave him so much satisfaction to start from scratch and create something that elicited joy in others. He was finally making something to help, not harm.

When he had been in Mr. White's arms one last time, feeling waves of pleasure, pain, anguish, excitement, devastation, and more pleasure come and go, radiating within his soul, he had tried to make a promise to himself that he would do better. That he would _feel_ better. And he did. He really did. It was like Mr. White helped to release the bitterness from his soul. 

He no longer felt so haunted by his past.

And Jesse couldn’t fucking wait until next Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end, thanks for reading and such. Kudos and comments always welcome. And thanks again to [Porkchop_Sandwiches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porkchop_Sandwiches/pseuds/Porkchop_Sandwiches) for the brilliant as always collaboration. And rock on.


End file.
